


Absolution

by Sincestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crying, M/M, Punishment, Rimming, Spanking, Wincest - Freeform, slight D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:09:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They haven't done it in years, not since a little while before Sam left for Stanford.  And yeah, the hunt went wrong, a little bit.  And okay, that might be Sam's fault.  A little bit.  He's rusty; he knows that.  But he'll get better with time.  And he doesn't need to be punished.  Not like that.  Not by his <i>shorter</i>, older brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

"You know the drill, Sammy," Dean says, tossing his jacket into the chair at the desk and Sam looks back over his shoulder, bitch face firmly in place.

They are not doing this. They haven't done it in years, not since a little while before Sam left for Stanford. And yeah, the hunt went wrong, a little bit. And okay, that might be Sam's fault. A little bit. He's rusty; he knows that. But he'll get better with time. And he doesn't need to be punished. Not like that. Not by his _shorter_ , older brother.

And it's not… if they do this, Sam won't want to quit. He can't handle Dean pushing him away like he did last time. There's nowhere for him to run this time around. And he can't deal with Dean dangling this over his head again and then jerking it away. Not when he has to spend every waking moment with him.

"Yeah," Sam answers, already heading for the shower, "Sorry, Dean. Won't happen again. I'll be good," and that's all Sam gives him. In the end, it's what Dean wants to hear anyway. And they don't have to go to all the trouble – or in the long run, the pain – of getting there the 'hard way.'

Dean doesn't reply and Sam shuts the door behind him. For a moment he just leans on it, eyes closed and breathing deliberately slow and careful. He's so close to turning around, opening the door, and running back out to Dean. Fucking begging Dean for his punishment that never quite used to feel like a punishment at all.

But he can't do that. Can't risk this completely brotherly relationship they've fallen into since he's been back. The last time they stepped over that line it ended with Dean torn and guilty and telling Sam it had to stop. It wasn't right. And Sam had left. And despite how often he complains, says he wants to go back to his normal life, he doesn't. Not really. Can't fathom leaving Dean again. Doesn't want to think about being so far away from him again.

So he steels himself against his urge to give Dean exactly what he wants, and turns the shower water on.

*~*~*

Sam's going to leave again. That fear grips him every time looks at his little brother. And Dean cannot let that happen. He has no idea how he survived for so long without Sam by his side, but he doesn't want to do it again.

And last time it was his fault Sam left. Dean couldn't give him what he needed. Was too scared. Felt too guilty. This time is going to be different though. Sam's older now. And Dean's wiser. It isn't any less wrong, but Dean's tired of worrying about right and wrong. At least when it comes to his feelings for Sam.

But Sam isn't giving in. Not completely anyway. But his little smart-assed speech on the way to the bathroom was enough. He still wants it, even if he's too scared of rejection to say so. Dean has no intentions of rejecting him though. And he needs to prove that.

So when Sam comes out of the bathroom, Dean is sitting on the foot of the closest bed. He lets himself admire the strong lines and cut muscles filling out his once skinny brother's body for several seconds. And then when Sam stops, one towel around his waist and another rubbing over his wet hair, and stares at Dean, Dean just smiles wickedly.

This is how it goes. Dean shirtless and Sam naked. Dean's legs splayed a little to create a space for Sam to occupy. Sam's face red from embarrassment and need and Dean's hands twitching for Sam's body. It's how it's always gone and tonight is no different.

Dean thinks Sam probably still wants to say no, but something pulls him across the small distance separating them. Dean leans back just a little, so there's room for Sam. But Sam, almost in a daze, shakes his head.

"I won't fit," he says, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes dark like Dean hasn't seen in years. God it's good.

"We'll make it work," Dean promises, one hand patting his knee. And Sam gives in.

He drops the towel in his hand, but leaves the one at his waist. And then he's positioning himself across Dean's knees, head hanging low and ass raised high. It's awkward, doesn't work as well as it did when Sam was a few (or more) inches shorter. But Dean kind of likes it better like this. Sam's big, strong. He doesn't have to do this, could easily get away. But he's willingly offering himself up and that's somehow so much hotter than Dean holding him in place.

Sam lifts up when Dean reaches under him to loosen the towel. And he whimpers so prettily when it drops to the floor, leaving him bare for Dean's eyes. And what a sight it is. Fuck. His huge little brother spread over his lap. That pert ass just waiting for Dean to mark it up. And Sam's cock… it's already poking him in the leg, probably leaking all over his jeans.

Dean takes a deep breath and lets his hand play softly over Sam's lower back while he composes himself. It's been so long. He's needed this so much. And now he's got it, got Sam pliant and eager under his touch. He has to calm down, because this needs to last.

But, before they start, he needs to know. And he's careful to keep all authority out of his voice when he asks, "Sam? Do you really want this?" Because Dean's never been the type to want to force anyone, much less his baby brother.

*~*~*

"God yes," Sam answers, without hesitation. It's just so good to have Dean's hands on him again. And if this all blows up in his face tomorrow, he'll worry about it then.

Dean's fingers skim lightly down his back, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and Sam shivers, pushes up to get closer to the warmth he's missed. But Dean presses a palm into the small of his back, keeping him in place.

"Not yet, Sammy. Stay still for me or it'll only be worse," It's not an idle threat. Sam knows. He's worn Dean's bruises before – quite happily. And part of him wants that again. Wants Dean to mess him up and mark him for days. A reminder that this was real, that it really happened. Just in case.

But it'll last longer if Sam is compliant. So he lets himself be held down and waits.

"Do you know why you're being punished, Sammy?" Dean asks, steady and calm, but Sam can hear the nerves just under the surface. Good. Sam isn't the only one a little out of sorts.

"Because I almost got you hurt," Sam answers automatically, because that is what he feels he should be punished for. But it seems Dean has other ideas.

"No. Because you almost got _yourself_ hurt, Sammy. And it's my job to protect you, but I can't do that without a little cooperation."

Sam wants to laugh at that. He hasn't needed Dean to protect him in so very long. But he holds it in. Knows this is serious for Dean. Knows that Dean has felt responsible for him since the night he carried his little brother out of a burning house. And he knows that Dean lives for that responsibility. And unnecessary though it might be now, Sam loves it. He loves knowing he's the most important thing in Dean's life. And, as silly as it sounds now that he's so much bigger, he feels safe with Dean. Always has.

"Yes, sir," Sam answers, honestly contrite. And suddenly, it doesn't matter that he's an adult or that he's got several inches on Dean now. He's that little kid who's got it bad for his big brother. He's that little kid who's going to take his spanking and love every second of it. Because what comes after… God.

The first slap sends an electric shock through his system, sense memory causing his dick to twitch almost violently. And he groans, ruts into the side of Dean's thigh once before he can control himself.

"No, no, Sammy. Stay still for me, baby. Take your punishment first, yeah? Ten licks, and then I'll take care of you. Can you do it for me?"

Dean's hand runs soothingly over the stinging spot and Sam sighs, arches into the gentle touch and nods. Yeah. He can do this. Wants to do this. Needs it desperately.

"Use your words, Sammy. Tell me you can handle it."

"I can, Dean. Please. I can. Promise," Sam breathes, beginning to squirm because he still has nine swats to go before he can-

The next slap rings loudly throughout the room and Sam gasps, pushes his bottom half up in a silent plea for more. It hurts. It hurts so fucking good and he doesn’t know if eight more are going to be enough. But it was always like this. Sam giving in just for what happens after, but then getting caught up, wanting Dean to leave him bruised and aching.

"Good boy," Dean croons, hand coming down swiftly again, "Taking it so good, Sammy. Seven more and we're done."

Sam keens when Dean delivers two blows in rapid succession. And that's his breaking point. His eyes well up and he's spitting out apologies before he can stop himself.

"So sorry, Dean. God, I'm so sorry. I'll be good for you. So good. Do just what you tell me."

Dean slaps him again, catching the skin just under his left asscheek and the tears start to spill out over his cheeks, dripping off his chin to the floor.

The last few blows come quick and hard and Sam just barely catches Dean's words over the loud cracks, "Never again, Sammy. You don't get to leave me ever again. Do you hear me? You're mine and I have to watch out for you. So you don't get to leave."

And by the time Dean's finished with him, and it's possible he added in a few extra swats, Sam is agreeing readily, "No, Dean. Not leaving. Never leaving you. So fucking sorry. So s-sorry."

Sam is honestly sobbing by the time Dean releases him, but that doesn't keep him from shifting and sinking to the floor between Dean's legs. He was good. He took his punishment and now he gets his reward. 

His face, when he pushes it into Dean's denim clad crotch, leaves wet trails of snot and tears. But Dean just cups a hand around the base of Sam's skull and pulls him closer. His hand is shaky though, which is so not Dean. Dean's never been anything but steady and solid when they are like this. And Sam knows why this time is different. 

It's different because all of his fears are out there for Sam's inspection. It's different because it's real in a way it's never been. These punishments have always been just a way for Dean to get his hands on Sam and vice versa. But just now, Dean was really punishing him. Making him pay for leaving. And Sam knows he deserves it, even if it was the only way to hold on to his sanity.

So he opens his lips over his brother's covered dick and mouths at it, nuzzling his nose into the crease of Dean's thigh. A silent apology. A plea for more. And Dean doesn't deny him, is working his jeans open before Sam can even catch his breath.

*~*~*

Dean loves having Sam spread out over his lap. He loves the feel of his hand coming down, warming his flesh. He loves the way Sam wiggles and gasps for him, the feel of Sam's hardness pressing into his thigh. But more than that, he loves this. The way Sam is so greedy and needy afterward. Like he just can't wait to get his mouth around Dean. Like Dean is his damnation and then his salvation.

Sam's world narrows down to Dean's pleasure, Dean's approval. Dean's fucking cock and how bad he wants it. And this time is so much better. Because Sam isn't just sniffling, he's outright crying.

And maybe Dean shouldn't get so much from that. Maybe he shouldn't like it so much. But fuck. He'd been so lost with Sam gone. And he's been sort of lost since Sam came back because they couldn't seem to find their way back to this. That's his fault, he knows. He owes Sam an apology as much as Sam owes him one. But that'll come after. After Sam's sucked him dry because he can't wait, and the hungry little whimpers Sam is making as he pops his fly tell him Sam can't wait either.

And the moment he pulls his dick out, Sam starts licking around the base, pressing soft kisses into the tender flesh and moaning like he's fucking aching for it. Like every day he's had to live without it has been hell. And maybe it has. It has for Dean.

"Go on, Sammy. Suck it for me, baby. Show me how sorry you are for leaving me. And then I'll show you how sorry I am for letting you."

Sam makes a guttural sound as his mouth opens wide and takes Dean pretty much all the way in. One fell swoop and his lips are flirting with Dean's pubes, his nose almost touching Dean's stomach. And Dean gasps, plants both hands in Sam's hair, and lifts his hips, forcing himself the last inch into Sam's mouth, just like Sam wants.

There's a close call, a moment where Sam almost retreats, as Dean's tip slides too far back, damn near into his throat. But Sam stops himself, forces himself to stay even as he gags. And Dean pets his head, crooning softly, "Good boy, Sammy. God, always loved seeing you like this, baby. Pretty little mouth stretched all filthy over your big brother's cock. Look so good, sweetheart. Gonna come so fast for you."

And he is. Embarrassingly fast because he's missed this so much. And Sam's so fucking good at it. Always so desperate to be forgiven of some imagined sin. And his absolution comes in the form of Dean's orgasm. And if Dean's being particularly dirty, he thinks his come washes Sam clean in some obscene very wrong way. It's the best kind of blasphemy, having Sam on his knees like this, as if Dean's body is an altar.

Sam's mouth moves warm and wet over him, tongue dipping into the slit every chance he gets, seeking out Dean's taste. And every so often, Dean thrusts, feels Sam choke on him and knows that Sam's tears are from that now and nothing else. It's good and Dean's pushed over the edge in a blinding moment of utter euphoria, gripping Sam and holding him about halfway down, filling his little brother's mouth with his release. And Sam swallows dutifully. Or maybe enthusiastically considering the smile on his face when he pulls off.

He's fucking beautiful, faced blotched red from his tears. Licking his lips like he can't get enough of Dean. Leaning back so Dean can see the way he's bobbing, hard and thick between his legs. But, when he reaches for his own cock, Dean shakes his head.

"Up on the bed, baby. Ass up, head down. Spread your legs for me, okay? Gonna try something."

*~*~*

Sam is still a little dazed from lack of oxygen and his head spins at Dean's suggestion. They've never… nothing but Sam blowing Dean and then jacking off for him. So he's not really sure what Dean wants. But he can have it, whatever it is. Sam has long been past the point of denying his brother anything.

Sam's legs are shaky when he tries to stand, but Dean's there, like always, a hand at the middle of his back to steady him. And then he's positioning himself like Dean asked, feeling quite exposed as the cool air washes down his crack. But he's never minded Dean's eyes or hands on him, so he just spreads his legs as wide as he can and puts his trust in Dean.

"I really am sorry, Sammy. It was just as much my fault as yours. We had this awesome thing and I fucked it up and pushed you away. And instead of fighting, like I thought you'd do, you ran. Can't blame you too much, baby. But I want you to know it's going to be different from now on. There's not going to be anyone but you for me, okay? No more running and no more shame for either of us. It's just this, you and me. Together. Okay?"

Sam nods, tears springing to his eyes again and fuck, maybe he really is a girl. Seems to be doing an awful lot of crying today. But there's Dean, being so dirty and so sweet, so Sam thinks he should get a pass.

He hisses when Dean's hands grip his cheeks, still sore from his spanking. But then Dean soothes him with a few soft kisses and Sam melts into his touch.

Dean's mouth is everywhere for a few minutes, kissing his cheeks, tonguing at the crease under his ass, nipping at the backs of his thighs. And Sam is pretty sure he knows where this is going. His cock spurts out a dribble of pre come at the thought because he's never done this. And that's _Dean's_ mouth running all over him, so that makes it even better.

But even knowing it's coming, the first swipe of Dean's tongue over his hole makes Sam shudder and moan. He tilts his hips invitingly, already anxious to have Dean's mouth back on him and Dean chuckles, warm air ghosting over Sam's sensitive skin.

"Want it, don't you Sammy? Want me to eat you out? Fuck you with my tongue? Gonna taste you, baby boy. Just like I've always wanted. And you're gonna get a hand on that gorgeous cock of yours and rub one out while I do. No rules, Sammy. Just come when you want, and I won't stop until you're finished. Got it?"

Sam whimpers out what he hopes is an affirmative response. But he can't be sure, because just as he does, Dean's tongue tickles at his entrance. And if that isn't the best fucking thing he's ever felt in his _life_ …

He gets a hand on himself just as Dean presses forward, tip of his tongue opening Sam up. And he doesn't even mean to push back, but it's just so good and he can't help himself. Dean hums encouragingly though, so Sam does it again. And within seconds he's literally fucking himself back on his brother's tongue, arm trembling with the effort of holding himself up.

Sam almost keens when Dean suddenly latches on, sucks hard at his rim and then immediately thrusts his tongue as deep as it will go. And fuck, the way Dean's hands are holding him open, possessive and demanding, Sam's not going to last.

"Oh god, Dean. Fuck. I can't… too good," He rasps, lurching forward when his arm almost gives out, but Dean doesn't stop and Sam's hand moves faster, stripping his own cock almost brutally.

He tries to hold out, doesn't know when or if Dean will ever do this again and he's never felt anything so fucking amazing. But then Dean pulls off long enough to say, "Come on, Sammy. Whenever you want, baby. All over the sheets. Make a mess for me," all winded and rough.

And Sam comes so hard he sees stars when Dean dives back in hungrily, slurping and sucking and tonguing like Sam's the most delicious buffet he's ever eaten. The sheets do fall victim to his release, but he doesn't even care, just lets himself sink into the wetness when he can't hold himself up anymore.

That's it, he thinks. Dean might toss him a washcloth, but Sam will be sleeping in this bed – because Dean will definitely take the clean one – alone. And tomorrow it'll be just like this never happened. No matter what Dean promises in the heat of the moment, that's always how it ends. Until the next time one of them just can't keep his hands to himself any longer.

But he's taken aback when Dean rolls him over a few minutes later, warm washcloth pressing into Sam's skin and cleaning him. And Sam gasps at the contact to his crotch, but Dean handles him so delicately, tenderly shifting him around and cleaning him before patting the outside of his thigh.

"Don't wanna sleep in your own come, do you? Come on. Can you get to the other bed? Or do I need to drag you there?"

They end up doing an awkward shuffle between the two. Sam carrying his own weight the best he can, and Dean shouldering the rest. Because that's what they do. Apparently even in the bedroom.

Once Sam is situated, Dean slides into bed beside him, not touching, but still a steady presence just within reach. Like always.

"I'm not… Sammy, this won't ever be like it would if we weren't brothers. I can't be your… _boyfriend_ or whatever. And I'm not going to suddenly turn into a cuddly teddy bear or anything. But I want this. All of it. Just like before. I want to have you watching my back out there and I want to share a bed with you in here. So, not _just_ like before. Maybe a little better though."

Dean leaves it at that and reaches up to turn off the lamp between the beds. Under cover of darkness, Sam smiles. Because he knows, from childhood experience, that in a few hours their bodies are going to be so tangled he won't know where he stops and Dean starts. But that's okay. Because he's not sure he knows that most of the time anyway.

"Whatever you say, Dean," he answers, but Dean's already snoring. And shifting closer. So Sam just closes his eyes and waits.


End file.
